Nine Ways to Kill a Fellowship
by Laziness Incarnate
Summary: If the Quest to destroy the One Ring is so darn dangerous, how come hardly any of the Fellowship die? Here's what really should have happened. [On-going]
1. One of Nine

**

Nine Ways to Kill a Fellowship

**

**One of Nine  
**

Caradhras was unpleasant. Every Man, Elf, Dwarf, and Hobbit could agree on that. Between the crazy amounts of snow and ice falling on their heads and squishing into their boots to freeze their toesalthough Legolas didn't have that problem, damn him, since he didn't wear bootsbetween that, and the evil wizard a thousand leagues away yelling and spitting in their faces...well, it was not a happy Fellowship that trekked up the eyebrow of the mightily crabby mountain.

"Not to complain, Mister Frodo, but don't you think this here climbing an angry, blizzard-covered mountain is just a bit dangerous?"

"Oomph," answered Frodo before he tripped and started rolling down the incline they had been scaling.

The Fellowship all began yelling "Frodo!" in alarm, but they were all quite slug-brained and slug-limbed from the cold, and none of them moved fast enough to catch the hobbit before he rolled off the edge of the path. They stared in shock, still sluggishly.

"Oh bugger," said Boromir finally, "we shall have to go find his body and take the ring off it. I suppose I should carry it from now on."

Gandalf put his hand under his chin and thought about it. The ringbearer really should have had more tact than to just up and die before Gandalf had gotten a chance to show off his magic. But then, this might turn out for the best...

"I think we should just leave the ring down there, what do you think? I doubt anyone will find it there for another millenium or so, and by then my shift will be over," said the old wizard cannily.

A faint voice said "...actually, i'm not dead."

"What's this about shift work? You wizards get paid by the century or something of the like?"

"Nonsense, Merry! As if wizards should care about such material things as money! We work for the perks."

Legolas cocked his head to one side and said, "Hello, I think I heard something."

"...that would be me..."

The Fellowship peered over the edge over the cliff. Frodo was lying on a ledge not too far below.

"Frodo! You're not dead!" cried Pippin.

"...i know..."

"Guess my plan didn't work," huffed Gandalf.

Aragorn regarded the ten metre drop warily. "One of us shall have to fetch him," he said, looking pointedly away.

"I shall rescue him!" announced Legolas with relish. "I can walk atop the snow as an otter glides through water"

"Yes, shut up, we know," replied Gimli sourly.

In answer, Legolas dropped lightly down the edge of the cliff, then promptly slipped, tumbled a few feet, rolled past Frodo and fell into the abyss.

After a few moments, Boromir said what everyone wanted to say: "Oh bugger again."

"Serves that smarmy elf right!"

"Now really, Gimli, one shouldn't insult the dead, as they can't defend themselves."

"Isn't that the best time to insult someone?"

"Um, shouldn't we check if he's dead? After all, Frodo didn't die from the fall…"

"…speaking of Frodo, i could still use some help down here…"

Just as the Fellowship was about to clamber down to help Frodo, a reverberating 'thunk' and a soft cry of "Ai!" were heard.

"I think," said Gandalf while coughing lightly, "that we don't have to worry about Legolas anymore."

"Problem solved, then!" spoke Gimli cheerfully. "Shall we continue on?"

"…consciousness…fading…"

"Oh right, sorry, Frodo."

And so (after finally pulling Frodo up to safety) the bold and fearless Fellowship journeyed on, undaunted by the death of one of their number. They hadn't really known the guy anyway, you know.

* * *

Author's Note:

One down, eight to go. Mwa ha ha!


	2. Two of Nine

**Two of Nine**

"Moria is going to be great!" Gimli told them repeatedly.

Gandalf and Aragorn may have rolled their eyes whenever he said this, but the rest of the Fellowship believed him. He was a Dwarf after all.

However, after the little incident where the pack of Wargs tried to kill them, they believed him a little less.

Once the octopus...squid...whatever, that thing in the water had grabbed Frodo and tried to eat him, they were downright skeptical.

Upon entering Moria and being trapped by a cave-in and finding the rotting remains of countless headless Orcs and arrowed Dwarves, Pippin went rabid.

"Okay, so maybe Moria's not so great," Gimli admitted.

Sam stared at the one-time entrance to the mines, sniffled, and said, "I can't believe we lost one of us already."

Frodo patted him on the shoulder comfortingly. "Steady now, Sam. I thought you were over Legolas's death by now."

"Who? Oh, him. I meant Bill."

"Don't worry about Bill," grunted Boromir, who was trying to move one of the rocks blocking the entrance. "I'm sure he's safer out there than in here. If you think about it, he has a much better chance of making it back home than the rest of us."

"This whole quest is lousy with danger," Aragorn added darkly as he inspected a Dwarven corpse.

"Gosh, I feel so much better now," muttered Sam.

* * *

"Gentlemen, we shall rest here for the night. Please keep quiet, and do be careful of the very deep well over there," announced Gandalf, holding his lighted staff aloft and gesturing at the mentioned hazard. 

"What, you mean this one?" Pippin giggled, sticking his head in the well and staring downward. "I don't know, Gandalf, I don't see any dragons flying out of it or anything."

"Fool of a Took! Get away from there!"

But Pippin, surprised by Gandalf's outburst, jerked his head up too quickly and knocked over the cadaver that had been resting comfortably on the edge of the well. His eyes widened and he instinctively dove to grab the corpse and felt himself falling forward into the endless darkness

until a pair of hands grabbed his foot and he jerked to a stop.

Pippin prayed that anyone besides Gandalf had caught him.

"Fool of a Took!"

So much for that wish.

Pippin pondered the number of ways a wizard could kill him while a number of hands pulled him (rather roughly, he thought) out of the well.

Once he was on safe ground again (relatively speaking), and the others had pried Gandalf's fingers off his neck, he managed to squeak out, "Ipromisetoneverdoitagain!"

"You'd better," growled the wizard, "or I might do something drastic."

* * *

"Well," said Gimli, "that was rather drastic." 

"Don't talk to me about wells," sobbed Pippin.

Things had started going badly when they'd run onto the bridge. Sure, the horde of evil monsters behind them had been bad before that, but theoretically a bridge should have made it difficult for the enemy to follow them en masse...at any rate, the bridge had been a bad idea.

When the Balrog had showed up, no one, not even Gandalf had known what to do. They had almost expected someone to yell "Ai ai!" in fear and to label the unknown terror, but they'd already lost their one wimpy Elf and no one else could have done the job.

"Er, I think that's Durin's Bane," Gimli tried gamely.

Gandalf had shoved a random Hobbit aside, stepped forward heroically, drawn Glamdring, etc. until the inevitable had happened.

"That poor sod," sniffed Boromir.

"Somehow...I almost expected things to turn out this way," said Frodo mournfully. "I think Gandalf knew what would happen...he did not want to come to Moria, after all, and he gave me that heartwarming speech about doing something or other with the time that is given us..."

"I'm going to miss him so much!" Pippin wailed.

Aragorn bowed his head in grief momentarily. They needed time to grieve...but nightfall was approaching, and with it, danger.

"Come," he said. "We must keep on moving. Sam, wake up Gandalf."

The Fellowship looked at him in astonishment.

"He's been unconscious long enough," said Aragorn impatiently. "We must keep moving."

They did as he said. They woke Gandalf from the magical sleep of the Balrog's spell and were on their way.

As they walked, Sam patted Pippin on the back and murmured, "There there. He died heroically, you know. Well, maybe not the part about being shoved into the abyss accidentally by Gandalf, but I'm sure his heart was filled with heroic courage until the end."

"I know..." answered Pippin through his tears, "but I shall miss my Merry so much!"


	3. Three of Nine

**Three of Nine**

The thing that was so disturbing about the Elves wasn't so much their aura of unearthly elegance/arrogance, or even the arrows they tended to point in one's face. Nor was it the fact that they reminded the Fellowship of the deceased Legolas, since none of them could remember that guy anyway.

No, it was their insurance policies that grated on the nerves.

"I'm just saying," Haldir was saying while shoving a piece of paper in Boromir's face, "that the river Celebrant is known for being swift and unforgiving. You would do well to purchase our premium coverage plan in case any...unforseen occurences should happen to, hm, occur."

"No, _thank_ you," grumbled Boromir for the twelfth time.

Haldir gave him a pitying look.

"Do you get the feeling," Gimli said loudly to no one in particular, "that these Elves might be TRYING TO KILL US WITH THEIR FREAKIN' BRIDGE?"

"Not much of a bridge," commented Sam, warily eyeing the two flimsy-looking ropes the Elves had stretched across the river.

"Gimli, please stop yelling," Frodo pleaded. "It bothers poor Pippin...look, you've made him start crying again."

Pippin was indeed sobbing all over Frodo's shirt.

"Merry...hiccup...oh Merry!"

Gandalf had the good grace to look ashamed.

"I really am sorry, you know," he offered. "It was quite dark, and the Balrog was just so _threatening_..."

"Enough of your excuses!" cried Pippin, throwing out a hand theatrically and incidentally whapping Frodo in the face. "I'm sick of them! I just want to...to get away!"

And with that he tore away from Frodo with his face buried in his hands, ran to the rope bridge, tried to cross, and promptly fell in.

Fortunately, one of the Elves seemed to have expected such an event, and was in position to immediately fish Pippin out of the water.

"If only you had bought the insurance policy," said Haldir sadly, "we could have charged you for that."

* * *

"Is it just me," whispered Boromir loudly, "or is everyone giving me pitying looks around here?" 

"Nonsense," said Celeborn. His eyes shifted shiftily.

Galadriel gave her husband a Look that seemed to say, "Act dignified, fool!" (and maybe she really was saying it, psychically) And then she turned her eyes on Boromir with an expression of eternal sadness.

"There it is again! I knew I saw it!" the Man hissed under his breath.

"Nonsense," said Celeborn.

* * *

They met a lot of Elves in Lothlorien. Beautiful, remote, ethereal Elves 

"Dammit! They're all giving me pitying looks!"

"Really, Boromir, you should stop insulting our hosts..."

"But they are, Aragorn! And that...that _woman_ is the worst of the lot. It is almost as if she expects me to up and die any second."

"Now why would they expect that?" said Aragorn guiltily.

* * *

"Farewell, Frodo Baggins" Galadriel said gently. "May the light of Earendil guide you in dark places, when all other lights go out. Oh, and do not forget who...what we spoke of." 

"Right," said Frodo, looking sidelong at Boromir. By now everyone was constantly looking sidelong at Boromir.

"Bloodly hell," he swore.

* * *

When the tremendous horde of Uruk-hai and a really nasty fellow name Lurtz showed up, the Fellowship breathed a sigh of relief. 

"Finally!" muttered Pippin as an Orc grabbed him by the collar.

Boromir leapt into the fray and yelled, "What did you say?"

* * *

_Later..._

"I cannot tell you," said Aragorn, "how sorry I am. This was so unexpected"

"Do not regret," Gandalf replied wearily. "for regret alone cannot bring back the dead."

"He was a good man," said Gimli, doffing his helmet in sorrow.

Boromir twitched where he lay on the ground, clutching at the arrows in his chest.

"Excuse me..." he gasped, "not quite dead yet."

"But the wounds are fatal. I would know; I am a healer," Aragorn insisted.

"Bastards..."

* * *

_Even later..._

Gimli had been grousing for a full half hour.

"How long is this going to take? We _do_ have to rescue Pippin. Save our tears for the living and all."

"Patience," said Gandalf. "He is still breathing."

Boromir breathed.

"I think he is really just being spiteful at this point."

"You...bet...I am...stupid Dwarf..."

* * *

_Even more later..._

If watches had been invented, Aragorn would have looked at his.

Boromir breathed one more time.

Gimli began examining his beard for split ends.

Boromir stopped breathing.

"Thank the Vala," muttered Ganadalf.

"Wait," cautioned Aragorn, "I think I saw him move...no, false alarm."

And they dumped Boromir in a boat and left to hunt down Pippin and the Uruk-hai.


	4. Four of Nine

**Four of Nine**

"What I'm wondering," Gimli managed to huff as he ran, "is what we're going to do when we catch up to those Uruk-hai." 

"What are you talking about? It's only one hundred and twenty-two of them versus the three of us." 

Gimli threw Aragorn a suspicious look. While it was true that Aragorn and Gandalf could probably take out fifty Uruk-hai apiece without breaking a sweat and Gimli could handle twenty-two no problem, the members of the Fellowship were frankly dropping like flies and it was worrisome. First whatshisface the Elf had fallen off Caradhras (Gimli still laughed from the bottom of his Dwarven soul whenever he thought of this), then Merry had been shoved into the depths of Khazad-dum (doom doom doom was the sound he made as he hit the rock face), then Boromir had been shot full of arrows (though it had taken him _forever_ to knock off for good), and of course Frodo and Sam were off to Mordor (as good as dead, Gimli had no doubt about that). 

And now he and Aragorn and Gandalf were chasing down a horde of Uruk-hai across the plains of Rohan to rescue _Pippin_. 

"What I'm really wondering," said Gimli, "is why you two aren't headed for Minas Tirith and why I don't turn around and go home." 

Aragorn grunted and Gandalf huffed. They were ignoring him, he was sure about it. But he tested his theory anyway. 

"Four score and seven Durins ago, my forefathers ran across the plains of Rohan and it was like thwacking themselves in the foot with an axe. Then my mother met a nice oliphaunt and they lived happily ever after." 

Aragorn and Gandalf said nothing. 

"I knew it," Gimli groused grimly.

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

"I must say, Glarg, that is a tasty looking morsel you're hanging onto over there. Might I...?" 

"My dear Sklorglspush, my sincerest apologies but I'm afraid you shall have to get your own hairy little person to snack on." 

"Ha ha, you don't say, Glarg old bean." 

For the rest of Pippin's life (which was admittedly looking pretty short), he would swear that this is what he heard from his position under Glarg's armpit. However, he might have been a little out of it, as he often was, due to that whole shortcut to mushrooms incident.

* * *

Despite Aragorn's fantastic Ranger skills, he somehow failed to notice the horde of Rohirrim bearing down on them until a horse had trod on Gimli's head. When questioned about it later, Aragorn would grumble that he didn't have Elf eyes and that's what Legolas had been for but he wasn't around anymore, was he. 

Anyway, a lot of "who are yous" and "what the hells" were exchanged, and after a round of wheeling and dealing and sleight of hand, Gandalf managed to procure them a trio of horses. 

"But I don't ride horses," said Gimli. 

"Tough," said Gandalf. 

"I will help you into the saddle, friend Gimli," and Aragorn tossed the Dwarf skyward. 

"No one tosses a Dwarf!" yelled Gimli as he landed on Arod's back, from where he was promptly tossed again. 

"What's wrong?" asked Gandalf as his horse expertly leapt through a smoke ring. 

Gimli could _feel_ himself being voted off the island.

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

Pippin had managed to escape from the Uruk-hai on his own (rendering Gandalf and company's frantic chase across the Plains of Rohan useless, incidentally), but in the process had run into a fate worse than being turned into Uruk-stew. 

"Hroom!" 

"a-lalla-lalla-rumba-kamanda-lindor-burúme" 

"Hroom!" 

"Hm!" 

"I think," said Pippin, "that, roughly translated, 'Entmoot' means 'boring as hell.' If only Merry were here..." 

"Hroom!" 

"a-lalla-lalla-rumba-kamanda-lindor-burúme" 

"Hroom!" 

"Hm!" 

"Someone kill me now."

* * *

Gimli looked up. And he looked up some more. 

"This Fang Horn forest has tall trees." 

"Fangorn," said Aragorn shortly. 

"Yes, I'll have to speak to him tomorrow," Gandalf added. When the others gave him puzzled looks, he clarified, "You know, Fangorn? Treebeard? The Eldest of the Old, unless the Elves have anything to say about it?" 

Aragorn and Gimli's expressions did not change. 

"You youngsters never study your history. Go make yourselves useful and set up camp; I shall explore the edge of the forest by what little light we have left this day. Tomorrow at dawn we go into the forest proper." And Gandalf disappeared into the trees. 

Damn wizard was probably going off to have a private smoke, Gimli thought to himself. 

"Damn wizard's probably going off to have private smoke," he said aloud. 

"Gimli," said Aragorn seriously, "I have something rather important to speak to you about." 

Gimli perked up at this and gave Aragorn his full attention. Was it possible that he was going to be consulted about the quest? Was he finally being given his due? 

"Gimli, this is going to sound harsh but frankly you're kind of extraneous," said Aragorn with a sympathetic furrowing of his brow. "You're sort of just...there. If Legolas were around I'm sure you'd be hanging around each other since he was the same way. I admit you're good for some things, like chopping wood, and comic relief - I know I always enjoy a good laugh at you. With you, I mean. And you're good in a fight...but not great in a fight. You're somewhat important to the quest but sort of not important at all. You're not even a Hobbit, though granted you are short and hairy. Gandalf and I, on the other hand, have an awful lot of prophecies written about us and at least ten names each, at a low estimate. All that is gold does not glitter and all, but...do you understand what I am saying?" 

"What do you mean I would be hanging around with the Elf?" Gimli demanded, his face red. 

Aragorn sighed. 

"Why don't you go chop some wood?" he suggested.

* * *

_Meanwhile..._

Thwap! 

"What was that?" said Pippin in alarm. 

"Don't be hasty," Treebeard replied languidly. "I know that sound - it is the sound of one Orc smacking. Against a tree. After an Ent has tossed its putrid and tree-killing evil little body around a bit first." 

"Oh, so no worries." 

"Hey, this Orc was really hairy," Quickbeam noticed as he peeled its remains off his roots.

* * *

"Where did Gimli go?" Gandalf asked upon his return. 

"No idea," Aragorn supplied. 

If Gandalf thought the Ranger looked shiftier than usual, he made no comment. 


	5. Five of Nine

**Five of Nine**

"You know, I never thanked you for saving me," said Pippin to the sentient, ambulant tree he was riding. "Those orcs had _really_ unpleasant armpits, and they were going to torture me for important information, which I definitely have." He puffed out his tiny Hobbit chest. "You probably saved Middle Earth by not letting them take me to Isengard - good job. By the way, where are we going now?"

"Isengard," said Treebeard.

Pippin was silent for a moment. It was, in fact, the first such moment in his life.

Then he said, "What?"

"It's what we decided," Treebeard explained patiently.

"What if I have a differing opinion?"

"That doesn't matter."

"...Well. No wonder it's called an Ent_moot_."

- 0 - 0 -

_Meanwhile..._

"Rohan certainly has a lot of horses, doesn't it, Gandalf?"

"It certainly does, Aragorn."

"I like horses."

The old Wizard turned from Strider's ruggedly handsome yet plaintively kingly face - a face he was rapidly getting sick of - to surreptitiously check his pipeweed supplies in Shadowfax's saddle bags. Running pretty low...

"But I like Men too," said Aragorn after a moment, not wanting anyone to get any ideas about him and horses. "That's why I think I'll make a good king."

Ugh. Five minutes alone with an inbred Dunadan was enough to drive a Wizard to the Darkness, and Gandalf was expected to do this for _months_? And soon without his weed fix? Sure, he was Gandalf the White now, but that didn't mean he was a saint, it just meant he could identify and safely carry ancient artifacts like _palantíri_, fire off a nifty holy element beam twice a day, and gaze off into the distance in a dramatic manner better than _anyone_.

"Eowyn does make up for things, though, I've got to say," Aragorn went on, now with a smug _oh yeah_ in his voice that Gandalf couldn't quite put his finger on because Monday Night Football and cheerleaders hadn't been invented, just yet. "I mean, the Battle for Helm's Deep will be a doozy, and it's a shame that the Dwarf and the Elf were too dead to bother coming, but I suppose I can make it on my own with that pretty blond to look forward to."

No, Gandalf mused, this simply would not do.

With a sudden motion he heaved his brittle old-man hips onto Shadowfax - and, after checking that his groin muscle wasn't pulled - gazed off into the distance in an appropriately dramatic manner. "I'll be back in a bit." (1)

Aragorn gaped.

"But what about the battle?" he complained in his ever-kingly way. "Saruman has an _awful_ lot of Orcs and he's sending them all to Helm's Deep. Did I mention the Orcs? Not just normal ones, but fighting Uruk-hai with brains and really good battle cries?"

"I'm sure you can handle it."

And before Aragorn Son of Arathorn could get in a word -

_Whoosh! _went Shadowfax, the fastest courier horse in Middle Earth!

- 0 - 0 -

Later...

"Aaaagggghhh!" screamed Pippin as the attack on Isengard began!

"Aaaagggghhh!" screamed Aragorn as the attack on Helm's Deep began!

"Aaaaaaaah," sighed Gandalf as his pipeweed session began!

- 0 - 0 -

Eventually, Gandalf showed up at Helm's Deep with a lot of Horses, Men, Trees, and a rather guilty look on his face. The first thing he said, upon re-uniting with Aragorn and the lords of Rohan, was, "I can quit any time."

"What?" said Denethor. "We just want to thank you for bringing Erkenbrand and saving us all."

"Erkenbrand?" Gandalf peered at the leader of Men he'd brought with him to the battle. "Aren't you Eomer?"

"No, I'm Erkenbrand," said Erkenbrand. "See the red shield?_That's_ Eomer over there."

"Oh Vala," said Gandalf. "I really do need to cut down."

Aragorn, who was macking on Eowyn, didn't notice a thing.

- 0 - 0 -

Pippin had expected Isengard to be horrible, and the waterworks were honestly a bit overdone, but now that it was cleaned out it wasn't too bad for a flattened, flamed, flooded bastion of evil.

Or rather - a flattened, flamed, flooded, _former_ bastion of evil!

(Well, actually, there was still a little evil on top of Orthanc (two evils, in fact), but there was also pipeweed down here, so it all balanced out.)

Pippin lazily blew a wide, hazy smoke ring and snuggled down more comfortably in his little nook by the gate. "Ah, this is the life. If only Merry were here." Despite the mellowness brought on by the weed, the Hobbit felt a touch of sadness at the thought of dear departed Merry. Then he brightened. "When Gimli and Strider show up I'll share a smoke with them."

- 0 - 0 -

"What was the name of that Dwarf again?" Aragorn Son of Arathorn asked.

"I forget," replied Gandalf the White.

"You two _do_ need to cut down," said Eomer.

"Quiet, Erkenbrand," muttered Gandalf.

- 0 - 0 -

Pippin twiddled his thumbs.

(It was in fact at that moment that Pippin first invented the practice of thumb-twiddling, but as dear Merry was sadly not present to notice and propagate the enormously useful gesture, Middle Earthians would for years to come continue to express their boredom by staring at the East and making dramatic yet trite comments about Doom in a bemused fashion, and beleaguered Pippin would have to go to the trouble of inventing the practice again at a later time, such as while listening to Treebeard talk about trees or Elrond talk, period.)

"Hi, Pippin," said Aragorn.

"AAAHHHrrragorn you didn't surprise me at all!" Pippin gasped. "I was watching the gate real well!"

"Peregrin Took!" Gandalf thundered, because someone had to yell at Pippin and it might as well be him since Gimli was sadly absent. "Do you have any idea what trouble you've given us?"

"No, but if you hum a few bars I might be able to figure it out."

"What does that even mean?" Eomer whispered to Denethor, who just shrugged - these non-horse folk were crazy.

"Where is Treebeard?" Gandalf went on thundering, like a cumulonimbus cloud of Doom. "I must speak with him. It is most urgent."

"You see the extremely large, sentient, ambulant tree? That would be him," Pippin replied flippantly. "Strider, where's Gimli?"

"He's dead."

"Oh. Pity. I've got some pipeweed here, thought we could have a few puffs together."

Gandalf, who'd already started heading for Treebeard, turned around.

"Did someone say pipeweed?"

- 0 - 0 -

Gandalf was feeling pretty...awesome by the time it came time to accost Saruman (and Wormtongue) in that sweet little pad atop Orthanc. In fact, Gandalf felt like a real Man right about now. A real Wizard-Man. Yeah.

Hee hee.

But...um...come to think of it...was Gandalf technically a Man, with a capital M? He was Istari, yeah...but wasn't Wizard just his class, and Man his race? How did he get such a stacked character build compared to everyone else anyway?

And what about women? Why didn't they get a capital W? Why no Woman, only Man?

Man. This was deep.

Deep as Helm's Deep.

Hee hee.

Gandalf wasn't just feeling awesome, he _was_ awesome.

- 0 - 0 -

"Gandalf? Are you even listening to me?" Saruman's melodious, soothing voice wasn't quite so much anymore. "Gandalf!"

"Maybe the Old Toby was overkill," Aragorn muttered to Pippin, who just rolled his eyes.

- 0 - 0 -

Blah blah blah blah, said Saruman.

Urrgghhhaah, blah grr ahh! countered Theoden, or maybe Treebeard.

Horses blah blah horses blah blah blah horses, Eomer interjected.

Bwuh? said Aragorn, son of Arrow-thorn. Blorgh bleen your hot sister buh huh?

Fggaahhh! yelled Wormtongue. (2)

I am possibly stoned, thought Gandalf.

And that's when the stone hit him.

- 0 - 0 -

"What the hell was that?" a random soldier asked stupidly. "Some kind of bowling ball?"

"What's a bowling ball?" Eomer cried out.

"Medic! Wizard down! Is there a Healer anywhere?" Aragorn started yelling. "A Healer, anywhere?"

While they fussed over Gandalf's body (corpse?), Pippin waded over to the large glass ball thingy that Wormtongue had hit Gandalf with. Pretty good aim for someone with "worm" in his name. Poor Gandalf's head. Anyway, this ball looked like it might be worth something...

"If only we had a Healer," Aragorn was still lamenting over spilled blood, er, milk. "Yes, if only we had someone who knew how to use, say, athelas."

"What are we going to do without our Wizard?" fretted the random soldier. "He was our main DPS guy!" (3)

"What the hell does that mean?" Eomer snarled. "I mean what the hell!"

Pippin lifted the ball out of the water and cradled it tenderly.

"I shall name you Wormball," he decided.

- 0 - 0 -

That night, Pippin looked deep into Wormball.

Therein he Skyped with Sauron.

Sauron was most sour.

Then everyone started yelling and Aragorn was confiscating Wormball and before Pippin knew it he was being packed off to Minas Tirith where he could go bother Denethor and hopefully cause less global catastrophe and not cause anyone to go mad and start burning his own son or anything like that.

They gave him Gandalf's horse, since the guy wouldn't be needing one anymore.

"This is pretty sweet," said Pippin as he mounted his new ride. "To Minas Tirith!"

_Whoosh!_ went Shadowfax, the fastest courier horse in Middle Earth!

- 0 - 0 -

Footnotes:

(1) _brittle old-man hips_ - This phrase was stolen from 8-bit Theater, a webcomic based on Final Fantasy 1.

(2) _Fggaahhh!_ - Famously said by Mr. Chupon (aka Typhon) from Final Fantasy 6. He's quite taciturn, you know.

(3) _DPS_ - Stands for "Damage Per Second" in video/computer games. Gandalf seems like he has pretty high DPS, right?


End file.
